


Gorgeous

by qveersam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Dean is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qveersam/pseuds/qveersam
Summary: Sam doesn't know why Dean is so pissed at him, and Dean can't handle having a pretty brother.Inspired by the song"Gorgeous"by Taylor Swift.





	Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> i made [this gifset](http://qveersam.tumblr.com/post/170203505032/theres-nothing-i-hate-more-than-what-i-cant) based on "gorgeous" and i kept thinking this could be a fic, so i wrote one??
> 
> this is my first time writing in english since it's not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes. i also hadn't written anything since 2012 for a lot of personal reasons, so i'm kinda nervous lmao be kind pls 
> 
> i know this isn't extraordinary or anything, but it just feels nice writing again after so long! hope you like it.

It took Sam some time to notice. At first, he brushed it off as Dean’s usual annoyed stares. When you spent almost every hour of the day with your brother, you were bound to get on each other’s nerves. He knew that, specially since he and Dean had that strange magnetic field between them, pulling them close even when they didn’t want to. And he could totally admit he was probably  _almost_ as annoying as Dean, no matter what his brother might like to say about him thinking he was better than everyone else.

What Sam thought was weird, though, was that he kept catching Dean staring angrily at him even when they hadn’t argued in God knows how long. Even on those good weeks, after a particularly good hunt or after a couple of days off. He was pretty sure he wasn’t  _that_ annoying, at least not enough to deserve so many glowering looks anyway.

It was a beautiful and warm morning when Sam finally accepted Dean was angry at him for some reason. There wasn’t any reason for Dean to be pissy that day. They’d decided to take the day to do some research, even though they both knew that was just an excuse to sleep in, watch crappy movies and take proper care of some injuries that wouldn’t heal no matter what they did. Maybe they could even use the motel pool Dean was always so excited about, even though Sam thought was too gross to go in. It was the perfect day for them to just be  _them_. No drama, no demons, no dying people. Just them taking care of each other like they used to, talking about nothing and everything over half drank beers.

So of course Sam was surprised when he came back to the motel after getting breakfast and was greeted with an eye roll from Dean. No  _good morning_ , no  _thanks, Sammy_. Just an eye roll and an annoyed snort.

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam set the greasy bags on the dirty looking side table and turned to his brother with what he knew was his signature bitchy expression. Dean stopped on his way to the table, and had at least the decency to look guilty for a couple of seconds. He returned to himself quickly enough, setting with his now usual cranky mood. He brushed past Sam and grabbed a donut.

“Nothin’. What else ya got there? Smells good.” And just like that, Sam was expected to drop it. He knew how much his brother hated talking about stuff and would very much prefer to just keep things bottled up until he exploded and ended up punching Sam. And hell, Sam was sick and tired of acting careful around Dean and then pissing him off anyway. He really needed to find out what the hell he did wrong this time.

 

* * *

 

 

His answer came that afternoon, their speeches slurred from the alcohol. The sun kept getting hotter as the hours passed so, without a working AC on the room, their obvious solution had been to get drunk off their asses. They were lying each on their bed, watching  _The Fly_  on the old TV set, talking and joking, a nice change from the past days. On one of the long commercial breaks, Sam for once decided to get them something stronger from the mini frigde. He was still laughing over something stupid Dean said and had already forgotten about, when he grabbed two glasses of cheap whiskey and gave one for his brother.

Sam laid back on the bed, leaving his own glass forgotten for a moment, and stretched, the hem of his t-shirt getting caught and revealing some of his stomach, trying to find a more comfortable position to finish his drink. That’s when he saw Dean looking at him, his expression slowly turning into one of his scowls. Sam saw his brother turn his face away from him as soon as he realized he’d been caught, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. Dean dragged his hand across his face and he quickly took his glass of whiskey, clenched jaws and furrowed eyebrows, avoiding Sam’s eyes. Sam just kept looking at him. They were having a nice time, weren’t they? He couldn’t turn his eyes away from Dean, wondering what had gone wrong. This time it was Sam staring, he knew Dean would snap at him in approximately 10 seconds if he didn’t stop. So he didn’t.

“Will you please just tell me what I did, Dean? I can’t put up with your pissy face forever”, he said jokingly, only to receive an annoyed huff. Alright, not in the mood then, he thought.

“Already said it’s nothin’, Sam. Just let it go.”

“Yeah, right. I know how much you  _love_ projecting your bullshit on me, Dean. I’m not your own personal punching bag or some shit”, Sam probably would have sounded a lot more convincing if he weren’t mispronouncing every other word. Damn you, alcohol. “Can we talk like grown ups instead of acting like passive agressive teenagers for once, Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean kept quiet for some time, trying his best to ignore him.

“Will you stop staring? ‘s not helping, y’know?”, he turned to Sam with an exasperated growl, rolling his eyes again. Dean looked back to the TV, adding in an almost inaudible whisper, “That fuckin’ face, man. I can’t fuckin’ look at that fuckin’ face anymore. Fuckin’ pretty boy or  _whatever_.”

Sam almost choked on his drink, staring at Dean’s profile as he finished the whiskey at a single gulp. “What’s that about my face?”, Sam’s voice was almost amused now, not sure what he’d heard. Had he heard it? No way. Right? He’s totally way too drunk right now. Dean would never say that.  _Right?_

Dean turned back to Sam looking both agressive and caught at the same time. He practically threw his empty glass back on the bed before standing up and pacing on the small space between their beds. He passed his fingers on his short hair, rolled his eyes yet again – Sam swore was going to fucking kill him if Dean did that one more time – and stopped, glaring at Sam.

“Your  _face_ , Sam. Think you can just go around looking like that? I-I mean… What the fuck, y’know? My baby brother has no business lookin’ like a fuckin’ _model_  every time I look at him”, Dean sounded frustrated and Sam couldn’t close his fucking mouth he was so shocked. “And then, I mean… whatcha trynna do here? Gimme a fuckin’ heart attack every time you smile with those fuckin’ dimples and all? Gonna fuckin’ kill me one of these days. I can’t  _look_  at you, I’m gonna fuckin’ punch you or somethin’.”

“Okay, so lemme get this straight… You’re  _angry_  with me because I look… good?”, Sam couldn’t keep the disbelieve from his voice.

“ _No_ , Sammy! I’m angry with you because you’re fuckin’  _gorgeous_. For fuck’s sake. Fuckin’ gorgeous, man. Look at your face!”, and then he wasn’t looking at Sam anymore. He turned shyly away from his brother and ran his hand through his hair again. “You’re so gorgeous it makes me so fuckin’ mad, Sam. Y’know I always hate what I can’t have.”

The alcohol burned in Sam’s stomach. Was that for real? His stupid beautiful brother, with those  _very_  stupid green eyes and freckles and that obscene mouth of his… calling  _him_ gorgeous? What a weird choice of word, by the way, but he’d worry about it later. He held his breath for a moment, waiting for that information to fully sink in. Dean seemed to be holding his breath too. Waiting. Expecting. None of them knew what, but definitely something. For a moment, Sam forgot about everything around them. Past and present became an irrelevant mess, everything leading to them right in that room. What did anything matter now? Sam had basically just heard Dean  _wanted_ him. And thought he  _coul_ _dn_ _’_ _t_ _have_ him. How could his own flesh and blood be so unbelievably dumb sometimes?

“Who says you can’t have me?”

Dean turned to Sam with his eyes confused and pleading. The air felt suddenly very heavy with the weight of possibility, the whole universe concentrated around them, in every inch of space between them, inside them. Sam felt the strong pull towards his brother he always did his best to ignore as he got up from the bed and walked the few steps until he reached Dean. He almost jumped when Sam touched his shoulder, a shiver passing both of them, as if all of the touches and looks and moments between them were enough to cause an electric storm right there in the space between their skins. A million thoughts were racing in Sam’s head as he closed the space between their mouths, and then they went quiet all at once. The only thing he could think about were those lips under his, the way Dean immediately put his hands on Sam’s neck, bringing them closer together, their mouths opening up for each other.

“You’re  _gorgeous_  too, Dean”, Sam managed to say between kisses, smiling because he thought he actually understood the word choice. There couldn’t be another word to describe Dean. Or to describe them. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading! hopefully this wasn't too horrible???


End file.
